


See my tongue I can hardly talk

by riverwrenwrites



Series: TUA Creator's Bingo [6]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Death, Drug Use, Gore, Klaus gets therapy, Klaus just needs a hug basically, Mentions of Suicide, Near Death Experiences, drug overdose, tags are about to get dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:00:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25898599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riverwrenwrites/pseuds/riverwrenwrites
Summary: TUA Creator's Bingo EntryPrompt Filled: TherapyTwo years after leaving the Academy, Klaus overdoses and finds himself stuck in therapy with a woman who is determined for him to get something out of it.
Series: TUA Creator's Bingo [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1715587
Comments: 10
Kudos: 141





	See my tongue I can hardly talk

“Oh, where to begin, where to begin? Well, I was adopted at birth by an eccentric billionaire with  _ impeccable  _ dress sense and a very loose grasp on ethics, raised with six- Well,  _ five _ superpowered siblings and one ordinary sister,  _ blessed  _ with the truly  _ delightful  _ ability to commune with the dead, locked in a mausoleum by my dear old dad, all while trying to deal with the pressures of child stardom. And this was all before I even hit  _ puberty _ .”

Klaus lifted his head slightly from where he had draped himself across the armchair, watching as the small, mousy haired woman across from him jotted some notes down on a pad. The sound of the pen scratching against the paper was like nails down a chalkboard and he swallowed thickly, grinding his teeth together as he silently willed her to stop. Finally, she looked up at him, and he gave her one of those winning smiles that he’d gotten  _ so  _ good at faking. 

“Is that enough material for you?” He asked, cocking his head at her. “Or should I keep going?” 

“You know,” The woman, whose name he’d already forgotten, took her glasses off and set them down on top of her notepad. “Oversharing to a stranger often alludes to a lack of close personal relationships.” 

“You must be a real blast at parties.” 

“Klaus, do you know  _ why  _ you’re here?” She asked and he rolled his eyes. “You over-”

“ _ Overdosed _ , yeah, I know, I know. But listen,  _ this _ ,” He sat upright, gesturing between the two of them with his hands. “Is  _ pointless!  _ I don’t need  _ therapy _ , I just… lost  _ track  _ of how many pills I was taking and boom! Now I’m stuck here talking about my  _ childhood  _ because my oversensitive, vigilante brother thinks I’m trying to  _ kill myself _ . It’s insane! And- and a  _ waste _ of taxpayer’s money, actually. Write  _ that  _ in your little notebook, Linda.”

“My name is Lauren.”

“That’s what I said,” Klaus mumbled, slumping back and letting himself sink into the plush leather. 

The clock ticked by on the wall, seeming to echo around the room in the silence. He could feel her eyes on him, studying him, and he shifted uncomfortably. 

“Aren’t we supposed to  _ talk  _ for this to work?” 

“That depends,” She said, leaning back in her seat. “What do you want to get from this?”

“I already told you!” He threw his arms up in the air. “I don’t even need to  _ be  _ here!”

“Then why do we need to talk?” 

Klaus narrowed his eyes at her. “Because I don’t like silence.”

It wasn’t silence. Not really. The clock was still ticking on the wall. His heart was still drumming in his ears. Blood was still dripping behind him. He’d made the conscious decision  _ not  _ to look at whatever ghost was standing behind him, because the sounds it was making were enough to tell him it wasn’t going to be a pretty sight. Still, the blood was getting a little hard to ignore, dripping rhythmically onto the linoleum floor and pooling underneath his chair. Tucking his feet up to avoid it, he looked back up at her. 

“Look, I really don’t know what else you want me to say,” He said, exasperated. “I already told you my whole life story.” 

“You told me about your childhood,” She pointed out. “But any time I lead you talk about anything  _ recent _ , you change the subject.”

“No I don’t.” He folded his arms defensively. “Go ahead, ask me something.”

“Alright. Last week, when you woke up in the hospital, what was the first thing you felt?”

“Thirsty.”

“Thirsty isn’t an emotion.”

“Well you didn’t specify that it had to be an  _ emotion _ ,” He goaded. “Gotta work on your phrasing, Laura.”

“Lauren.”

“Whatever.”

“You changed the subject again.” 

He was expecting her to be smug about it, but instead her face softened and she leant forward, making him shuffle back in his seat unconsciously. 

“I’m not doing this to try and aggravate you,” She said and he snorted. 

“Could have fooled me.”

“Klaus,” She said softly. “You almost  _ died _ . Whether it was intentional or not-”

“It wasn’t.”

“Regardless, that’s a scary thing, and it’s normal for something like that to bring up a lot of complex emotions. All I’m trying to do is help you process that.”

Another ghost was standing behind her now, his face completely drained of colour with dark purple bruises around his neck. His pale eyes bore into Klaus as he struggled to stay focused. 

“I don’t need to process anything,” He mumbled. 

“Klaus, listen to me-”

“No, listen to  _ me _ . There’s a guy standing behind you who got  _ strangled  _ to death!” He jabbed a finger pointedly at the ghost. “There’s a little girl sitting over there who drowned in a lake when she was seven. And this guy…” He finally looked over his shoulder, taking in the sight of the woman with guts spilling out of her stomach. “Girl… I don’t even  _ know  _ what happened to her, but I  _ do _ know she died horribly. And I really don’t think sitting here talking about my  _ emotions  _ and how  _ grateful  _ I am to be alive is gonna make me feel better while these guys are hanging around.”

Lauren was quiet for a moment, seemingly unphased by the announcement that three ghosts were sharing her office space, she chewed on the lid of her pen and nodded slowly.

“Have you ever heard of survivor’s guilt?” She asked, continuing when he stared at her blankly. “Usually it happens when someone survives a traumatic event that a lot of other people lost their lives to. Like, a soldier surviving the war when so many other men didn’t, or a survivor of a terrorist attack.” 

“Last time I checked I hadn’t been in any wars.”

“No,” She agreed. “But you  _ are  _ surrounded by death, on an almost daily basis. And it’s almost as though you feel guilty for being alive when all the ghosts you see had to lose their lives.” 

For once, Klaus didn’t have a snide remark to clap back with, avoiding her eyes and picking at the frayed edge of his jacket sleeve. 

“We only have a few minutes left,” She told him, nodding up at the clock. “Are you okay to leave things there?” 

“Yeah.” He nodded. 

“Will I see you next week?” 

Klaus chewed on his lip thoughtfully for a moment and nodded. “Yeah,” He said quietly. “Yeah I think so.”


End file.
